Destined for Glory
by Hope in Death
Summary: For his safety, Harry Potter was placed under the Dursley’s care. However, he immediately disappears. Eight years later, he returns and attends Hogwarts under the pretense of being a student. However, as a ninja, his loyalty lies with Konoha. Narutoxover.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Naruto.

**Imprisonment**

Harry Potter was unusual.

He was considered unusual because he was different. Unlike the rest of his family, he didn't carry a single drop of magical blood in his veins. He was what most witches and wizards would call a squib – a child born from magical parents, but without the capability to use magic.

He was a disgrace.

He knew his parents were ashamed of the fact that he was a squib even though they tried their best to hide their disappointment. They said that his ability to use magic didn't matter to them; however, their actions spoke otherwise.

They were disappointed.

He knew they were disappointed because it was the only logical explanation to his predicament. If they didn't hate him, then why else would they have abandoned him at the Dursleys?

They said it was for his safety, but then, why didn't they leave his brother too? If he was in danger, then wouldn't Deon – a wizard – be in even greater danger? If it was for his safety to stay at the Dursleys, then why didn't they leave Deon here for his safety too?!?

Harry's eyes clouded with tears as he huddled closer to himself in a small corner of the dirty cupboard. Didn't they know what the Dursleys were like? Didn't they know that they _hated_ him? Didn't they know that they were abusive – both physically and emotionally? Did _anyone _care?

Of course they didn't. If they cared about him, then they wouldn't have left him there in the first place.

Closing his eyes, Harry quietly cried himself to sleep as he dreamed of happier times and places. A place where he could call home, and a time when his family had loved him …

He remembered and he cried…because he knew it was all he had left…

…Memories.

* * *

Lily was staring into space…again.

James barely reigned in a tired sigh as he looked helplessly at his wife. What was he supposed to do? What was the _best_ thing to do? Had he really done the right thing by sending Harry to live with the Dursleys? At first, when he heard that Harry would be safe and protected there, he had agreed wholeheartedly. But now, looking at the despondent state his wife was in, he wasn't so sure anymore.

Sighing, he turned his head towards his former professor and offered him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry Albus; Lily's hasn't been feeling very well lately. Was there something that you needed?"

"No," Dumbledore answered tiredly, his eyes shining with a deep sense of sadness and regret. "I just wanted to see how you three were holding up." Taking a small sip from his cup of tea, he quietly added, "James, you know that I have your family's best interest in mind. Please believe me when I say that sending young Harry to live with the Dursleys is the best thing we _can_ do. He'll be safe there, and he'll be able to live a normal life – one untainted by the war. As long as Harry's presence at the Dursleys' home remains a secret, he'll be safe from Voldemort."

James raked his hand through his hair. "Isn't there any way we can visit Harry or send someone – possibly Sirius – to check on him? It's been five months since we've heard anything about him! What if he's not happy there? What if he doesn't fit in? What if the Dursleys don't like him? What if…"

"James," Dumbledore interrupted, holding up his hand in an attempt to stop James' onslaught of questions. "I've thought a lot about Harry too, but it's just too risky to send someone to check on Harry. If the people we send to check on Harry are followed, then it'll endanger both Harry and the Dursleys. So, the best thing we can do right now is focus our attention on ending the war, because if we can stop Voldemort, then it'll be safe to bring Harry home again."

"But why can't we bring Harry home now? We're protected by the Fidelius Charm, aren't we? And Sirius would never betray us!" James argued. "Harry would be perfectly safe here."

Dumbledore sighed as he patiently answered, "You have to understand, James, that there is no fool-proof spell in this world. There is a possibility that Voldemort will find the counter-spell to the Fidelius Charm, and when that happens, Harry will be killed. Whereas Deon can be trained to defend himself, Harry will be defenseless against the Death Eaters. If anything happens, Harry will be the first to perish because Voldemort despises all muggles, and in his eyes, a squib is no better than a muggle. By bringing Harry home, you will be placing him in grave danger."

James resignedly nodded his head as he sagged against his chair. Dumbledore was right. What was he thinking?

"Don't loose heart, my boy." Dumbledore gently consoled. "Harry will come back to us someday. When Voldemort is destroyed, Harry will return home. But, for now, trust Lily's family to take care of him."

James closed his eyes and numbly nodded his head.

This wasn't permanent.

Someday, Harry _will _come home.

* * *

"BOY! BOY! Wake up!" Vernon Dursley roared loudly, pounding his beefy hand repeatedly against the door.

When Harry failed to answered, he was immediately hauled out of his cupboard and flung half-way down the hall. Biting back a cry of pain, he quickly stumbled to his feet and backed away from his uncle. Gathering his courage, he quietly demanded, "What do you want?"

At that question, Vernon's face immediately turned a dark shade of purple. "What do I want?" he hissed, barely restraining himself from lunging at his freakish nephew and strangling him to death. "What do _I _want?" he repeated, gaining volume. "Don't you dare ask me that question when it was _your_ freakish parents who dumped you on _us_!"

Harry's eyes immediately clouded with tears as he glared hatefully at his uncle. "Then just kick me out!" _No one cares anyway. _

"You ungrateful brat!" roared Vernon, raising his hand and soundly slapping his nephew across the cheek, leaving a large welt in its wake.

Harry immediately reeled back in pain, shocked. He had hit him – again. Cradling his bruised cheek in his hands, Harry quickly turned and fled. His heart pounded loudly in his ears as he raced for the door. Fumbling with the lock, he immediately screamed when he was suddenly lifted off the ground by the collar of his neck.

Pain instantly shot through his body when was unceremoniously slammed head-first against the wall. Blood trickled down his forehead as his vision flickered unstably in and out of view. Lying helplessly on the ground, he silently wondered if he was going to die. Surprisingly, he found that he didn't really care anymore.

_After all, it's just one less squib in this world…_

Finally, unable to cope with the pain, he blacked out.

* * *

When Harry awoke again, he found himself back in his cupboard. Struggling into a sitting position, he immediately hissed in displeasure when his body groaned in protest. It felt like he had been run over by the knight bus – repeatedly.

Ignoring the sharp throb of pain in his head, he slowly crawled towards the door and pushed. Surprisingly, the door immediately swung open.

_Uncle Vernon either forgot to lock the door or he was simply too lazy to do it._

After a moment, Harry concluded that it was mot likely the latter because Uncle Vernon probably thought that he would be unconscious for several days again (since it took him nearly three days to regain consciousness last time).

Pushing the depressing thought out of his mind, Harry quickly, but quietly slipped out of the cupboard and stepped into the hall. Looking around to make sure that no one was awake, he was pleased to note that the Dursleys were probably sound asleep (by the sound of their snores).

Deciding not to waste his precious time, Harry hurriedly stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed his cousin's backpack off the counter. Emptying the content onto the ground, he quickly opened the fridge and stuffed as much food as he could into the pack. Once he was satisfied that he had taken as much food as he could, he quickly zipped up the pack and hefted it over his shoulders.

Taking a step into the dark hall, he immediately froze when he heard a set of feet rushing down the stairs. Recognizing the sound of the light footfalls, Harry hurriedly turned and bolted for the door.

Petunia Dursley was awake.

He had barely unlocked the door when the hall lights suddenly flicked on. His aunt immediately spotted him. Realizing what he was trying to do, she quickly rushed forward and screamed.

Ignoring the incessant pounding in the back of his head, he quickly flung open the door, slipped out of the house, and slammed the door in his aunt's face. A second later, the door was flung open again.

Half-way across the street, he heard his aunt scream for him to come back. However, for once, he completely ignored her command and ran faster.

He was _never_ coming back again.

* * *

He wasn't quite sure where he was going, or how long he had been running. All he knew was that he had to get as far away from the Dursleys as possible. It didn't really matter where he went, as long as it was _away _from Privet Drive. The last thing he wanted was to go back there. If given the choice, he would rather die first!

There was no way he would…

_Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop._

Harry quickly skidded to a halt and backpedaled. _What…? _His bright, green eyes immediately widened with apprehension when he realized he was surrounded. Were they wizards sent by his parents to return him to the Dursleys? His heart immediately twisted painfully at the thought of his family. The family that abandoned him…

"Look at what we have here, boys. It's the famous Potter brat!"

Harry immediately jumped, reflexively flinching when one of the darkly-dressed wizards suddenly broke the tense silence with a scathing remark. "Wrong one, Bella. This one's the squib."

Harry's jaw clenched.

"Well, since he's not the right one, Master won't mind if I killed him then." Bella grinned maliciously, pointing her wand at the young boy. "It's a pity; I thought we had found the right one for sure…Crucio!"

Harry immediately screamed as his tiny body convulsed in pain. It felt as if his body was literally being torn apart from the inside out. Not even the Dursleys caused him that much pain…

"That's enough."

The pain stopped.

"What do you want, Anita?" Bella snapped angrily, glaring at the woman standing near the back of the group. "This isn't the brat that the Dark Lord's looking for. He won't mind if we have some fun with this squib before resuming our mission." Curling her lips in sick fascination, she quickly turned back to Harry and shouted, "Crucio!"

Harry immediately screamed as the same pain tore though his body again. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks as he simultaneously screamed and pleaded for them to stop – to stop whatever they were doing to him.

"I don't care what Voldemort wants. If it wasn't Orochimaru-sama's wish, I wouldn't even be here." Anita snorted, causing many of the Death Eaters to flinch when she addressed the Dark Lord by his name.

Bella scowled. "What do you want with a squib?"

Anita frowned. "Unlike you, I don't make it a habit to question my master's decision. My job is to simply complete my mission, and for this mission, Orochimaru-sama explicitly ordered me to bring back someone from the Potter family. Thus, as long as the boy is a Potter, he's coming with me."

"If you can, you're welcome to try to take him from me." Bella sneered.

Anita's eyes narrowed. She immediately dropped into a defensive position and pulled out her kunai. If the woman was looking for a fight, then she would make sure that she would never be able to challenge her again.

"There's no need to fight between us." a third voice drawled, breaking the tense silence. "We're allies, aren't we?" When he didn't receive a response, he quickly barked, "Put away your wand, Bella."

Bella's jaw clenched, but she reluctantly obeyed.

"Go ahead and take the boy. Just make sure your master keeps up his end of the bargain. The Dark Lord is generous, but he will not forgive those who betray him."

Anita sneered. "Don't try to threaten me, Lucius. Orochimaru-sama will do as he pleases! He bows to no one." Frowning darkly, she quickly picked up Harry's limp body and slung him over her shoulder. "However, for the sake of this alliance, I'll excuse your insolence this time. We'll continue this discussion the next time the portal opens."

"When will that be?" Lucius asked, narrowing his eyes in barely restrained anger. "Another thirty years?"

"The seal separating our worlds is gradually weakening. In another century or so, our worlds will become one. However, before that happens, all we can depend on is the portal. The portal is an unstable bridge between our worlds. Sometimes it's open; other times, it's not. However, like I said, the seal is weakening. At the very most, I'll be able to return in ten years."

Bella grunted. She didn't understand why her master even bothered making an alliance with Orochimaru – a man none of them had ever seen face to face. Wouldn't it have been easier if they just did everything by themselves? They didn't need an alliance to advance to their noble cause!

"Then, we'll be expecting you in ten years." Lucius coldly intoned. Then, in a softer voice, he quietly added, "Don't forget your end of the bargain."

"As long as you don't forget yours." retorted Anita. Then, without another word, she quickly turned and left. "_Sayonara_…"

_Fools…_

* * *

Harry's head pounded as he tried to make sense of what he had just learned. They had talked for a long time, but all he managed to piece together was the fact that the Dark Lord (the one he had heard his parents talk about) was allied with some mysterious guy named Orochimaru. There was also something about worlds and portals, but his young four-year-old mind couldn't wrap around the concept.

"You're lucky, boy."

Harry's eyes opened. They were in the park.

"I don't know what a squib is, but from what I've gathered, it's not something you're proud of, right?" Anita smirked. "But that's going to change. Once Orochimaru-sama's experiment succeeds, he'll make you into something powerful. You'll gain the strength of an animal!"

Harry's eyes widened with fear. What was she planning to do with him? Was she going to try to turn him into an animal? He immediately began to struggle in her grasps; however, he quickly discovered that she had an iron grip on his body.

Anita grinned maliciously. "Orochimaru-sama's experimented with all kinds of people's bodies. None of them came out the way he envision it. They were all trash! But maybe – just maybe – your dormant magical blood will be able to make the experiment a success!" Laughing happily, she murmured quietly, "You should feel honored, boy. You may become Orochimaru-sama's first successful attempt to imbue animal characteristics into a human!"

Harry didn't quite understand every word she said, but he had enough sense to realize that the experiment would be dangerous. Tears immediately surfaced again as he considered his situation. Why did all the bad things have to happen to him? First, he was abandoned by his parents. Next, he was abused by his relatives. Then, he was tortured by a woman named Bella. Now, they were going to use him as an experiment.

His shoulders shook violently as silent tears streamed down his pale cheeks. If it hadn't been for his parents (who had abandoned him), then he wouldn't have been abused by his relatives. And if he didn't have a brother – if Deon didn't exist – then maybe his parents would have loved him…and if his parents had loved him, then maybe (just maybe) he could have been happy too.

In that moment, torn between physical pain and internal sorrow, he came to the conclusion that he had been trying to avoid ever since he had been abandoned on the Dursley's front porch.

He hated them. He hated _all _of them – each and every last one.

Wizards were scum…

…and his family was the worst of them all.

* * *

TBC 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Naruto.

**Left in Ruins**

There were countless times, sitting wide awake at night, when he wondered if he had been destined for something more...important. Maybe, he mused, at one point in his life, he might have had a purpose. However, whatever purpose that might have been, it was most likely lost years ago.

He had lost everything two years ago…

…His dignity, his hopes, his purpose…

_Everything._

Sighing, he lazily tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He tried to recall what life had been like before he had lost everything; however, all he could remember was varying degrees of anger and bitterness.

Had he always been bitter and angry?

He couldn't remember. He could barely even remember what it had felt like to live! Had the sky around him always been dark? Had the air around him always stank of death and hopelessness?

Had life always been _this_ meaningless?

He wasn't sure – at least, not anymore.

In his cell – his hell – nothing really mattered. Time held little bearings and life held even less meaning. Seconds blurred into minutes, minutes into hours, hours into day, days into months, and months into years. Time still passed, but nothing mattered.

Two years had passed, but everything was still the same.

He was almost seven years old, but nothing had changed.

For him, life had reached a standstill.

* * *

March 17th was a special day.

For most muggles, it was St. Patrick's Day. For Albus Dumbledore, it was the day he became the Headmaster of Hogwarts thirty-seven years ago. However, more recently, for most wizards, it was the day the darkest wizard of the century, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was defeated by five-year-old Neville Longbottom.

It was a day most people celebrated.

However, for the Potters, March 17th marked something entirely different. It was the day they learned that their eldest son, Harry Potter, had been murdered. It had been a bitter and sad day for the entire family. They had thought he would have been safe at the Dursleys – they thought that he would have _lived_.

He should have lived. He _should _have.

"It's my fault. I should have been with him." Lily's eyes were blurred with tears as she gazed forlornly out the window. "I should have been there to protect him. I should never have let him go."

"Lily," James softly murmured as he wrapped his arms around her shoulder, "you're not the only one at fault. I should have been there too. We _all _should have been there." _I should have protected him with my own hands. _

"Harry would have turned seven in two months." Lily murmured, blinking back her tears. "It's been almost two years since we've lost him, but it still hurts so much. Every time I think about him, it feels like I lost him all over again. It hurts. It hurts so much, James. I wish I had never let him go!"

"I know," James whispered consolingly. "I know."

Sniffling quietly, Lily softly murmured. "When I had learned what had happened to Harry, I really wanted Voldemort to live. I wanted him to live long enough so I could kill him myself." Clenching her fists, she softly repeated in a firmer tone, "I've dreamed of killing him so many times in so many different ways that I sometimes think I _already _killed him. I've wanted to kill him so much that I began to wish – to pray – that he would live long enough for me to find him. But then…then he goes and dies. True, I've wanted Voldemort dead for many years; however, simply hearing that he had died is not enough to bring me the satisfaction I've desired – the satisfaction of killing him myself."

James' eyes immediately softened when he heard his wife's embittered words. He had never known she had felt that way. Had he always been this oblivious to her feelings? Sighing, he quietly buried his face in her neck and murmured, "I'm sorry."

_I'm sorry for everything…_

_I should have been there for him._

* * *

His ears instantly perked when he heard someone enter the hall. "You're early this month, Anita." he quietly noted, tilting his head towards where he had heard her footsteps enter the hall. "What do you want with me this time?"

"My, my, little Harry," she laughed softly, "What gave you the idea that I wanted anything from you?" Stepping up to his cell, she quietly mused aloud, "Maybe I just felt like visiting my protégé today."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to ask again. What do you want?" he snapped, pinning her with a dark look. "If there's something you want from me, say it; if there's nothing that you want, leave."

"Don't take that tone with me!" Anita snapped. "I know you hate me, Harry, but don't forget that you can't live without me." Curling her thin fingers around the bars of his cell, she murmured, "I know what you want, Harry. I know that you desire freedom. But think about it," she grinned, "are you really sure you want freedom?"

Harry faltered. _W-What?_

"Face it, Harry. You're a freak. No one's going to accept you because of what you are." Anita cruelly sneered. "You, of all people," she continued, "should know better than anyone that humans are selfish, self-serving creatures by nature. They abhor anything that they consider to be abnormal. Thus, people will hate you because you're different."

Harry's hands clenched.

"But even if (by some miracle) someone tolerates your existence. How do you plan on communicating with him and the rest of society? Admit it, Harry. In this world, I am the _only _one who speaks your language. You can't survive without _me_."

Harry's eyes immediately slammed shut as he covered his ears with his deformed hands. "_Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!_"he mentally roared as he violently shook his head from side to side in an attempt to block out Anita's harsh words. However, his attempts to ignore her voice only served to intensify the words that continued to reverberate through his mind, repeating itself again and again in his head until it was firmly engrained in his memory.

"It's not true." Harry whimpered, curling into himself. "I'm not a freak. Change me back. Change my back _now_!"

Anita sneered, her face twisting in disgust. "Get up, boy. I'm not here to listen to you wallow in self-pity. If you want to blame someone, then blame those darn parents of yours. They're the ones who should have protected you." Smirking, she cruelly hissed, "If you want to hate someone, hate them."

_It's their fault. _

"Now come," she beckoned, unlocking the cell doors, "Orochimaru-sama awaits you." Without waiting to see if Harry was following her or not, she promptly turned and walked out of the prison hall.

Behind her, Harry's eyes burned with a mixture of scorn, hate, and bitterness as he carefully stepped out of his dark cell and shifted into the dimly lit hall. The dim lights immediately highlighted his pale face, accentuating his most prominent features.

His dark, emerald-green eyes – seemingly devoid of a soul – instantly narrowed in distaste when the ground squelched beneath him each time his webbed-foot made contact with the floor. In response to his self-revulsion, his webbed-hands immediately clenched by his side as the gills lining his neck flared with anger.

Although he loathed admitting it, Anita was right.

He couldn't live without her.

* * *

As soon as Harry entered the room, his eyes immediately flickered to the slim figure sitting at the head of the table. Gritting his teeth together, he reluctantly dropped to his knees before the man and mumbled, "Greetings, Orochimaru-sama."

"Ohayo, Harry-kun," the snake-sannin returned, offering him a sinister smile. "_I hope you're prepared for our next session. There are several things I need to accomplish in the next twenty-four hours._"

Turning his head towards Anita, Harry patiently waited for her to translate the words for him into English. Once she delivered Orochimaru's message, he immediately bowed his head and murmured, "As you wish."

Even though he absolutely detested showing Orochimaru any form of respect or submission, past experiences reminded him of the consequences of insubordination. The snake-sannin's method of instilling submission in his slaves was both brutal and immoral. If possible, it was some of the last things he wanted to experience again – especially if he could avoid it by tempering his temper.

One day, he silently promised himself, he would escape.

_One day…_

He wanted his parents and his relatives to suffer in the same way that they had made him suffer. One day, he wanted Anita to endure all the hardships and humiliation that she had forced him to endure. One day, he wanted Orochimaru to feel the same pain and injustice that he had felt when he had turned him into a hybrid monster, forcing him to live a life that was neither human nor demon.

_One day…_

"I promise," he softly swore under his breath as his eyes gleamed with barely suppressed rage.

_I promise that you'll regret it!_

* * *

Harry's eyes slowly fluttered open as a groan escaped his parched lips. Twisting onto his side, he immediately hissed in displeasure when his muscles rippled with pain. It felt distinctly like his limbs had been torn apart piece by piece by a wild animal and then hastily sown back together by an amateur. Even though it was impossible, it still felt as if their last session had hurt even more than the other times that Orochimaru had decided to experiment on him.

Hoping to take his mind off his discomfort, he tried to recall what had happened during their last session; however, the only thing that his pain-addled mind seemed to be able to recall was the various chemicals that they had injected into his body.

Everything else that had transpired was blanketed in a haze of pain.

Cursing the snake-sannin and his accomplices under his breath, he quickly turned his attention to more important matters. Looking over his hand, he was disgusted to find that his soft, smooth skin was beginning to gain an aqua-tinged tone. Curling his fingers into a fist, he watched with little satisfaction as his pointed fingers immediately bit into his flesh, drawing a steady stream of blood.

Unlike his more fortunate cellmates, who had all died during the experimentation, he was the only one who had been able to properly assimilate the different chemicals into his body. In a way, he was considered to be some sort of celebrity amongst the scientists because he was the only human who had survived Orochimaru's experimentation, which basically involved turning an ordinary human into a superior creature by intertwining an animal's genes into his normal DNA.

According to the scientists, even in rare cases, it was impossible for a human to have more than one set of animal DNA. However, in his case, due to his latent magical ability, his body could house up to five different types of animal DNA. In their opinion, he should be proud of his achievement.

However, the only thing he could feel was anger and disgust.

He didn't care the slightest about the power or the special abilities the experiment promised to grant him. Although some people might be tempted by the promise of power, all he wanted was to live a normal life and die as a normal human.

Power meant nothing to him if it meant sacrificing his humanity in the process.

Pushing his bitter thoughts aside, he tried to pull himself into a more comfortable position against the wall. However, he had barely lifted himself off the ground when his muscles suddenly gave out again, sending him sprawling to the ground. Curling his hands in the dirt, he immediately began to pound his fists repeatedly against the ground in hopes of lessening his internal turmoil. However, even after his knuckles cracked, the numbing pain brought him little satisfaction.

At last, unable to cope with his warring emotions, he finally raised his head and screamed his frustration and anger towards heaven.

Why? Why was he always the one suffering?

* * *

It took three days before his body finally healed. During that time, he had been ceaselessly pestered by several scientists who had wanted to observe his reaction to the new chemical. As if that wasn't enough of an insult, some of them insisted on treating him like a lab rat by poking and prodding him with their fingers.

However, upon close reflection, he decided that the three days weren't completely devoid of entertainment. For example, he distinctly remembered scratching out one of the scientist's eye with his newly-acquired talons when the idiot continued to pester him with questions that he didn't want to answer. Sadly, Harry decided, he didn't get the chance to gloat over his victory before he was roughly knocked out by the guards. He would have loved to see the look…

"You seem to be in a good mood today."

Harry immediately frowned, identifying the speaker.

"Have you finally realized what a great honor it is to be chosen for Orochimaru-sama's experiment?" Anita asked, smiling faintly under the dim lights. "Honestly, I never understood why you always stood against the experiment. You had nothing to lose, but everything to gain."

Lifting his hands to the air, Harry bitterly spat, "I can hardly consider _this_ a gift!"

"What wrong with that?" she retorted, tracing the outline of his hands with her eyes. "You've gained power only a few people can even begin to imagine! Think of the endless possibilities! You would be able to breathe under water and swim… "

"I don't care!" Harry hissed, his eyes narrowing into snake-like slits.

"You're a fool." Anita murmured, pressing her lips together to form a tight line. "No wonder your parents abandoned you."

Harry immediately jumped to his feet. Pressing himself against the bars, he easily swiped his talons across her arm, leaving behind four angry scratches. "Get out of here," he roared, his eyes blazing with fury. "Get out!"

Anita opened her mouth to retort; however, she was immediately silenced when one of the guards suddenly stumbled into the room, screaming about something that was barely comprehensible.

Harry, unable to understand what the guard was rambling about, gradually relaxed and settled himself back on the ground. He watched interestedly as Anita's face instantly paled when the guard shouted something that distinctly sounded like "unboo". Although he had no idea what an "unboo" was, Harry easily deducted that it was either something dangerous or something powerful (or possibly both).

"_U-Uchiha_?" stuttered Anita, terrified.

Harry's interest piqued when Anita tensed every time the word "uchiha" was used. Even though it was undoubtedly interesting to watch Anita's face turn pale with terror, he quickly realized that he was in as much danger as everyone else.

"G-Get up!" hissed Anita as she fumbled to unlock his cell door.

Harry's forehead immediately crinkled with confusion when Anita attempted to half-pull, half-drag him out of his cell. "What's going on," he demanded, digging his feet into the ground. "I'm not going anywhere until you explain."

"Shut up, brat!" she roared. "I don't have time for your games right now!"

"Tell me!" Harry shouted back, digging his talons into his arm.

Seemingly unaware of the pain in her arm, Anita continued to drag him out of his cell. "We have to leave _now_! They'll be here in any minute if we don't hur…" The words immediately died in her mouth when both of them were suddenly slammed into the wall, knocking the breath out of their lungs.

He watched with growing fear as an eagle-masked shinobi, flanked by four other men, suddenly surrounded them. They were saying something to them, but the only word that Harry understood, besides the snake-sannin's name, was death. It irked him that he couldn't understand what the masked men were saying to them; however, his irritation was quickly replaced by fear when the eagle-masked man suddenly drew his sword and pressed it against his throat.

"W-What do you want?" Harry demanded, trying to scoot away from the blade. He vaguely recalled that the people in this world didn't understand his language; however, in the face of the pending danger, he could hardly remember anything at all. "Get away from me!" he screamed as he pressed himself against the wall behind him.

_He didn't want to die. Not yet. _

The man raised his sword.

_He wasn't ready. _

The sword swung down with dead accuracy.

Harry's scream died in his throat when the sword's descent was suddenly halted by another blade. Harry's eyes were wide-open with terror from his near-brush with death as he stared unblinkingly ahead. His heart pounded loudly and erratically in his ear as he slumped against the wall. Slowly, finally snapping out of his stupor, he gradually lifted his eyes towards the man who had saved him at the last moment.

His eyes immediately lighted with confusion when he realized that his savior, the tiger-masked shinobi, was much younger and shorter than the other men on his team. The eagle-masked shinobi's tone was angry and clipped when he began to talk. From the way the eagle-masked man kept making gestures towards him, Harry could easily tell that he was the topic of their disagreement.

He instantly tensed when the tiger-masked shinobi began to speak. The younger man's tone was cold, but smooth, belying the fact that he could only be a few years older than him.

Biting his lips in worry, Harry immediately winced when his fangs accidentally punctured through his flesh. However, he easily pushed the minor discomfort aside as he waited for the two shinobis to reach a decision concerning his life. Even though he tried to think positively about the situation, he knew that the chances of his survival were slim to none because the eagle-masked shinobi was undoubtedly the leader.

However, the younger shinobi surprised Harry by whispering something that caused the older man to step back in fear. The eagle-masked shinobi hesitated for a brief moment before finally nodding his head in acquiescence to whatever the younger boy had suggested. Then, turning on his heels, the leader quickly barked an order to the other men and promptly left. In response, the remaining shinobis quickly bound Anita's wrist and hauled her out of the room, closing the door tightly behind them.

Harry immediately gulped as he turned his eyes towards to the last person left in the room. Despite the fact that he had saved his life only minutes ago, Harry knew that he could still change his mind at any minute. For a brief moment, Harry considered the idea of attacking him head-on. However, he quickly tossed the idea aside when he realized he wouldn't even last a minute. His natural instincts, which were easily three-times stronger than a normal human's instincts because of his peculiar situation, had never been wrong. It would be suicide to attack.

Harry's eyes darted nervously around the room as he prepared to run the moment the shinobi attacked. However, the older boy surprised him again by sheathing his sword and offering him his hand.

Surprised that he wasn't repulsed by his appearance, Harry tentatively reached out and grasped the proffered hand – mindful not to injure the older boy with his sharp talons. Despite the fact that his instincts were screaming danger, Harry found himself relaxing in the older boy's presence.

Once he was standing, Harry immediately felt dizzy as his vision began to blur. He belatedly recognized the technique as the same one that the snake-sannin usually used to put him to sleep when he refused to cooperate. He opened his mouth to say something; however, before he could even begin to form a word on his tongue, he promptly tilted forward and fell asleep.

The last thing he saw before the darkness completely enveloped him was a pair of cold, uncompromising, blood-red eyes.

* * *

TBC 


End file.
